


Solace in the Dead of Night

by macsfiction



Category: Queen B (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, i like pain and suffering, idk i had an idea and then this happened so, there is no graphic violence but MC does get hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27073528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macsfiction/pseuds/macsfiction
Summary: Nico gets mugged on her way back to Belvoire, and just as she thought that the night couldn't get any worse, she stumbles upon none other than Poppy Min-Sinclair.
Relationships: Poppy Min-Sinclair/Main Character (Queen B)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	Solace in the Dead of Night

**Author's Note:**

> just a little disclaimer: everything i create involving poppy is strictly fanon poppy. i do not like nor condone canon poppy's actions. this version of poppy lives in an au alongside my mc nico.

This night can’t get any worse… that’s what Nico thinks until she catches sight of blonde hair under the shadows of the night. She tries to change route, walk the other way in an attempt to hide from Poppy, but of course, it doesn’t work. Poppy has spotted her and now Nico stands still like prey before a lion’s path. She can practically feel Poppy’s smirk in the air, so she braces herself for another unwanted encounter with the Queen Bee of Belvoire.

“Ah, if it isn’t Hacksville,” Her tone is teasing as she saunters a step closer to her.

Nico instinctively turns away, giving the blonde her back. Her sides ache and her hands are shaking and all she can do is hug herself just a little tighter for comfort, the idea of Poppy seeing her in her current state is embarrassing enough so Nico tries to use the shadows to her advantage.

“Just finishing your clandestine meetings, are you?” Nico teases back. As much as she just wants to ignore her and continue on her way to her dorm, she can’t resist a battle of wits with the one Poppy Min-Sinclair. Perhaps this will be her downfall.

“Hmm… the pot calling the kettle black. What are you doing, Hacksville? You had to resort to stalking now?” Poppy places her hands on her hips and takes a step forward. Nico takes a step back.

“In your dreams, Poppy.” Now, Nico is the one smirking. She hopes the tone of her voice is confident enough to not give away the soft winces that threatened to escape her throat every time she tries to move.

God, _of course_ she would run into Poppy on a night like this. Getting beaten up isn’t humiliating enough, of course she would have to meet Poppy to take away the last bit of dignity she has left. Thoughts run through her head like rapid fire, searching for any way she can excuse herself, any way she can run to her dorm without Poppy seeing her with a bloody lip and a probably dislocated shoulder. She can almost hear the laughter coming out of her lips, the degradation and insults. She would have a field day seeing Nico like this, and Nico couldn’t have that. But running isn’t an option, she can barely move without a part of her body screaming in pain.

“Ha! As if.” Nico can see the silhouette of Poppy flipping her hair and straightening her posture. “Whatever, what are you even doing here?”

“Having a stroll.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“Mhm…”

Nico doesn’t turn to face her, in fact, she keeps her distance, which clearly annoys Poppy.

“What the hell is wrong with you, pig girl? You’re being way weirder than usual. Too scared to face me?” Nico gives out an involuntary chuckle. “I’m talking to you!” She sounds so insulted.

Poppy walks closer, and Nico tries to move away, but her current state makes her slower than usual. The blonde grabs her injured arm to turn her around and steps in front of her, making Nico groan loudly in pain.

Everything goes quiet after that, Poppy’s hand ironclad around her arm, her eyes widening at the sight of Nico. There is a moment full of dread as neither of them say anything, Poppy’s wide brown eyes are unmoving from Nico’s face, and Nico’s too mortified to look anywhere but at Poppy’s. She is waiting for laughter, for mocking, for her to say that this is what she gets, waiting for the pleasure of seeing her disheveled and hurt. This is the most humiliated she’s felt in front of Poppy, the most vulnerable, and she absolutely hates it.

But the laughter and the mocking, they never come. Instead, Poppy slowly raises her hand to lift Nico’s chin and uses her thumb to gently wipe away the bit of blood staining her lips. Her eyes grow cold and heavy as she does, unmoving from their target. Something in the air shifts and it makes Nico shiver, or perhaps it's the unexpected actions of the blonde that make her react this way.

“Who did this to you?” Poppy’s voice is steady, though heavy darkness lingers underneath the calmness of her tone. Is she… _angry_? The thought shocks Nico. Never in a million years would she have thought that Poppy Min-Sinclair, the one person who has sworn her as a mortal enemy, would feel _anger_ of all things at the sight of Nico hurt.

“W-what?” She takes a step back, small enough so that Poppy is still in her personal space, but far enough so that she can see her clearly. So that she can get her head clearer.

“Who. Did. This. To. You.” Poppy’s words are more pointed than before, and her eyes finally meet Nico’s brown ones. “Don’t make me repeat myself again, Nico.”

 _Nico_. First she shows concern and now she is calling her by her name? What the hell is happening?

“You’re worried about me.” Poppy scoffs and crosses her arms. Nico blinks a couple of times and narrows her eyes, “I thought you hated me?”

“What? Did you think I’d be pleased to see you like this?”

Nico’s eyebrows shot up for a second as she shrugs. Well… yes? She doesn’t think there is any other appropriate reaction to seeing the person you view as your enemy hurt… is there?

Poppy lets out another loud scoff, she looks incredulous as she shakes her head, “I might be a bitch, Hacksville, but I’m not heartless.” Her eyes scan Nico again, softly this time. She feels them stop at her shaking hands and her lips—where she can feel a bruise forming. “Who hurt you.” It’s not a question anymore, it’s a demand.

“I—” Her brows furrow in confusion, a little bit of skepticism still lingers in her but she gives in at the end. “I was on my way back from… _town—_ ” Poppy raises a questioning brow “—when two guys came up to me. They took my wallet and phone.”

“You were mugged?” Nico notices the badly hidden hint of alarm in Poppy’s voice.

“Yeah but—” She lets one of her insufferable smirks grow on her face, the type she knows makes Poppy roll her eyes “—you should have seen the other guy.”

As if on cue, the blonde rolls her eyes and Nico lets out a soft chuckle.

“Where did it happen?” Poppy crosses her arms again and shifts her weight. Nico wonders if she is doing so to keep her distance instead of reaching out to her again. She wishes she would. Some comfort would be nice.

“It doesn’t matter. It was a random street, I didn’t see any cameras or anything.” Now, Nico is the one who embraces herself. The event is still fresh in her mind and her body aches with the thought.

“And you fought back, didn't you?” This time Poppy doesn’t hold back, she takes a step closer again and her hands immediately cup Nico’s face in order to inspect her better, though her voice sounds saddened. Nico tries to keep from wincing at the action, her skin still tender from the bruising.

“I did,” Nico whispers the words. For some reason this feels more intimate than she anticipated, and when Poppy’s eyes move up again to meet hers, her heart almost gets caught in her throat. _What is happening?_

She clears her throat slightly before letting her lips curl into a small smile, “Poppy, you’re getting awfully close to someone who’s supposed to be your archnemesis… and at this hour of the night? People will start to talk.”

Immediately, Poppy rips her hands away and takes a step back. “Ugh.”

“Hmm, they might even think I’m one of your clandestine meetings.”

“God, you’re impossible.” The blonde rolls her eyes. “Fine. Whatever. Be on your merry way then.” She crosses her arms again and turns around. At the same time, Nico lets out a small laugh and starts to walk towards her dorm, but as soon as she takes a step a loud wince escapes her lips. After a short pause, she takes another step—when she hears a loud groan from behind her, and a steady arm wraps around her torso for support.

“You are _so_ annoying,” Poppy says without looking at her. Nico looks down for a moment perplexed by the blonde, but a smile still manages to form on her lips. “So, are you gonna move? Or do you need me to drag you to your room?” She knows what Poppy’s annoyed voice sounds like, and this is not it.

“I can walk.”

It is easier to move now with Poppy’s arm around her supporting her every step, though her right arm remains tucked close to her stomach and her other hand holds it in a failed attempt to stop the pain.

“So, where is your building anyway?” The short silence is broken by Poppy, once again trying to sound as annoyed as possible.

“Oh, come on, don’t act like you don’t know where I live. You probably scouted the place as soon as you met me—” she can’t help but be amused, “—to make sure you had all your bases covered, of course.” The teasing is evident in her tone.

She can only guess that Poppy rolls her eyes at her comment. “Don’t make this something that it isn't, Hacksville.”

They step out of the field thick with trees and into a lit-up pathway. The light from the streetlamps casts a welcoming halo around them as they continue to walk, though now, away from the shadows, Poppy can clearly see Nico’s true state. Her short hair is a disheveled mess, her tanned face stained with blood and dirt, with a small bruise making a home of her right cheek. Her normally-clean clothes are now dirtied and wrinkled, even if she is wearing her casual attire of a t-shirt and jeans, the stains make them look a wreck. Her shaking hands—with her right hand knuckles covered in blood—Poppy can’t help but wonder if it's hers or her assailant’s. Curious fingers make their way to touch, but they hesitate right as they hover over the bloodied knuckles.

“You know, if you want to hold my hand all you need to do is ask.” Nico’s smirk is a bright contrast on her face. She looks at Poppy from the corner of her eyes, and just as quickly as her fingers moved they retract.

Poppy stops walking, a now balled fist to her side, and looks at Nico with a glare. “If you keep it up, I’ll just leave you here and have someone else find your decaying body in the morning.” Her eyes are fierce but they don’t hide the soft pink that wants to creep on her cheeks.

Nico tries to move her arms up in weak surrender. “Alright, alright,” she says through a chuckle, “but I don’t think bodies start decaying the morning after.”

“With your current state? I think it will.” Poppy straightens her posture. She makes a point of marking her indecision as she returns her arm around her. “You already smell the part.” That gains her genuine laughter out of Nico.

The rest of the walk is short, Nico’s building appears after they turn a corner. Nico tries to make more comments, but they only gain glares or silence from Poppy, so she is quick to stop, the only noise now her occasional groans and winces as they walk. They make their way inside the building and up to Nico’s floor, and once outside her room Poppy stands awkwardly as the other opens the door. Nico starts to walk inside but soon stops as she realizes that Poppy is not next to her anymore.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Are you coming?”

The blonde’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and she shifts her weight in uncertainty.

“I still need help to get to the couch.”

Poppy lingers there for a moment longer, her eyes scanning the inside of the room before she lets out an annoyed breath and resumes her position next to the taller woman.

“Zoey?” Nico calls out as they walk inside the room. She can feel Poppy tense up beside her. “I don’t think she’s home yet.”

Poppy helps her sit down, her body finally finding the comfort it so desperately needed in the fabric of the soft couch.

“Hey, Poppy?”

“Hm?” She looks like a fish out of the water, clearly uncomfortable in enemy territory.

“Do you think you could get me the first-aid kit?”

“What am I now, your maid?”

“Please?” Her big brown eyes are unashamed in their begging.

Poppy rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “Ugh. Where is it?”

“It’s in the bathroom cabinet in my room.” Nico nods in the direction of her room.

“Why didn’t we just go to your room then? You have a bed, I assume, unless you sleep in a pen like the other farm animals.”

“Are you saying you’d rather be in my room, on my bed, Poppy?” One of her eyebrows rises as her smirk reaches her eyes.

“If you truly think I’d entertain the idea of being in bed with the likes of someone like you, you’re even more idiotic than I thought.” She makes a disgusted face before walking in the direction of her room. “I’m starting to be very glad you got your ass beaten, Hacksville, you deserve it.”

Nico can’t help but smile as she watches the blonde enter her room very cautiously as if just being there would make her susceptible to a deadly disease. She knows she should be wary of Poppy entering her room—all the secrets and blackmail material she could gather from there would terrify anyone, but for some reason, Nico finds the whole situation amusing, even sort of endearing. It’s interesting to see Poppy act this way—she saw a glimpse of this side of her when they went to the animal shelter, sure, but that was kindness towards animals, this is kindness towards _her_. She finds it interesting and amusing and sort of fun, watching her act disoriented in a place she can’t claim as her own. Even for the Queen of Belvoire, Nico’s dorm is uncharted territory—and her room is behind enemy lines.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take Poppy long to come back with the first-aid kit. The bag is a bit worn and she holds it at arm’s length by the handle. There’s a wet towel draped over it, and she looks sickened by just having to touch it. The blonde basically throws the kit down on the table in front of Nico before making a show of brushing her hands off.

“Well, there you go.”

“Thank you, Poppy.” She looks at her through her lashes, and the small smile on her lips remains there until she reaches for the kit, a suppressed wince escapes her and she clutches at her right arm with a frown.

Poppy, who had started turning to leave, stops and looks at her. “You okay?” Her eyes squint as if she can’t decide whether Nico is deceiving her or not.

“Yeah, it’s just—” she groans as she attempts to move her right arm, “—my shoulder, it hurts. I think I might have dislocated it.”

Poppy pauses for a second, then lets out a breath and moves to sit down next to her on the couch. “Let me see,” she says, and, without waiting for a response, she takes Nico’s arm, one hand right above her elbow and the other on her shoulder. Her fingers are firm yet gentle. “Does this hurt?” She slowly lifts Nico’s arm up to about halfway until Nico lets out a pained sound.

“Yup. Hurts right about there.”

“Okay. How about if I do this?” She presses down a finger close to her collar bone and Nico lets out a small wince.

“Yeah.”

“On a scale from one to ten.”

“A three, maybe.”

Poppy lets out a thoughtful hum. “How about here?” Her fingers now press down on her shoulder blade and Nico lets out a pained groan and practically jumps away from her.

“Ah— _fuck_! Yeah, that one hurt.” She says through gritted teeth.

“Your arm is definitely messed up, but I don’t think it’s dislocated. You wouldn’t even be able to lift it if it were.” She tries to lift her short sleeve up to see her shoulder better, her words absent-minded as she focuses on the action.

“Here, I can just—” and, without another word, Nico takes off her shirt so Poppy can get a better look, though she lets out a rather loud pained groan that she tries to suppress by clenching her jaw. She’s definitely had worse injuries than this, definitely felt worse pain, and she isn’t really one to hide from these things—but with Poppy around, she can’t help but try to act tougher than she feels. So, she shuts her eyes and swallows the pain.

Nico lets out a sigh of mild relief as she wrinkles the shirt in her hands, the searing pain now subsiding. She runs her left hand through her short hair before she turns to look at Poppy. A small frown forms on her face as she takes in the sight of the blonde with her back now straighter than before, her lips pursed, and she watches as her eyes widen in something she can only describe as a mix of surprise and horror, they move from her abdomen to her sports bra to her toned arms all the way up until they shy away from her stare and move back down to her shoulder. She must be imagining the blush on her face.

“Oh my god...” Her voice is low, almost a whisper.

Confused, Nico looks down at herself only to see just how bruised her body is. Bright blue and purple spots are splattered all over her abdomen, with a huge one on her side. Her arm is pretty badly bruised too and she can only guess how her back and legs must look like by the way they hurt. She only lets out a deflated “oh”.

There’s a moment of silence as both of them try to change the subject, or focus on anything else other than her injuries.

Poppy subtly clears her throat. “It’s not dislocated.”

“What?”

“Your shoulder. It’s not dislocated.”

“How do you know?”

Poppy moves a finger on a spot close to her collar bone, “the bone would be visible here if it were.” She slowly drags her finger over to her shoulder blade. “You are pretty badly bruised, though,” her voice sounds gentle, concern wanting to peek out, “that’s probably why it hurts so much.” Her finger continues its route down to her arm as she speaks.

“How do you know that?”

“I dislocated my shoulder when I was younger.” She finally looks up at her. Nico gives her a curious look, and Poppy replies with a halfhearted eye roll. “I was 13 and we went to the Alps for a ski trip. I took down a steeper slope than I should have and, well...” She finishes with a shrug.

“Hm, ambitious as ever I see.” Nico smiles and it’s right about this time she notices that Poppy still hasn’t let go of her arm. The finger that had been trailing down her arm now lies comfortably on the pit of her elbow as the rest of her fingers press gently on her skin. She blinks a couple of times before a goofy smile starts to creep up her lips and she looks back up at Poppy, tilting her head in just slightly to further the teasing.

“So… are you getting a better look?”

“What?” Poppy looks taken aback and she leans away from Nico.

The brunette’s smile widens as she straightens her posture.

Poppy’s lips purse, her eyes narrow, and, in a quick move, she mercilessly presses a finger on the bruise at Nico’s side in retaliation, “don’t even start.”

“Agh!” Her pained groan turns into laughter halfway through—something she regrets for as she starts laughing, her side starts hurting again. “Sorry, sorry,” she says between laughs.

She looks at Poppy’s closed off posture. With her hands crossed on her chest and her face facing away, she doesn’t know if it’s a pink blush that’s forming on her cheeks or a trick of the light, but the idea of Poppy blushing makes her smile nonetheless.

Poppy blushing… Poppy blushing for something _she_ did, why is the thought of that sending ripples through her stomach? But before she can fully process the thought, the blonde reaches over and grabs the wet towel from the table. She turns to Nico again and without saying a word or making eye contact, she starts rubbing the soft fabric on her abdomen, cleaning the dirt from her skin.

Her movements are soft and gentle, almost like she is caring for a baby, Nico notices the lack of pressure on places that might hurt her, the caring strokes, the worry and concentration on Poppy’s face, with the soft creases in her forehead, her bottom lip tucked lightly in her mouth, her narrowed eyes unmoving from their target, the stray strand of hair that refuses to stay in place, framing her face so beautifully. The sight of her like this is riveting.

“I didn’t know you had one here.” The blonde gently points at a tattoo right underneath the hem of Nico’s sports bra.

“Oh, yeah… I don’t wear crop-tops too often.”

“You should.”

Nico gives her a curious look.

Poppy spares her a second to meet her eyes before rolling them and returning to her task. “It’ll distract people from your face.”

“You think my body is distracting?”

“You know, I’d think twice before pissing off the person who’s cleaning your wounds if I were you.”

Nico lets out an amused hum and continues watching her.

Before she can blink, Poppy grabs her right hand. It rests delicately on her own as the blonde slowly places it in front of her. Her tender fingers make sure to hold her hand as carefully as she can, while the other attempts to clean her bloodied knuckles just as delicately.

“It was stupid for you to fight back.” The words come out of her mouth unprompted.

“What?”

“You’re stupid.” Her voice sounds factual, but not in an insulting way, the words don't have any bite to them, they sound almost pathetic as she says them.

“I couldn’t just let them walk away. You know me, Pops.” The nickname makes Poppy look at her. “I don’t back down from a fight, and I don’t let people just take things.”

Poppy lets out a breath, choosing to ignore the way Nico is looking at her for she turns her sight back to her hand. “I think that just makes you even more foolish.”

“Why are you helping me, Poppy?”

Poppy shrugs, her tone indifferent. “You’re like a dumb, pathetic little puppy left astray in the middle of the road, I was not about to let you die.”

Nico tries to put on an amused smile but the truth is that she expected Poppy to say something else, something _more._ “Bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”

She catches the blonde looking at her from her lashes for just a second. For a moment, it feels like Poppy is about to let the conversation die, then she sighs and stops her actions. “Seeing you like this… I don’t like it.” Slowly, the blonde’s gaze meets Nico’s. “It makes me angry.”

There is a short pause as the words register in Nico’s brain. _It makes me angry_. Seeing her like this—seeing her hurt—makes Poppy angry. But before she can comment or fully process the weight of her words and the meaning behind them, Poppy speaks again.

“I mean, no one’s allowed to hurt you but me.” She says it so nonchalantly, but Nico wonders if there’s a hidden meaning to them.

“Oh, is that so?” A charming smiling curls on her lips, the same smile that she knows Poppy finds utterly annoying, especially when she teases her with it. But this time Poppy only rolls her eyes halfheartedly and gives her a playful shove.

“I can make your life miserable.” It’s an attempt to correct herself and go back to being indifferent, callous, but it falls short. It’s like she’s not even trying anymore.

“I know.” And Nico does. She has no doubt in her mind that Poppy Min-Sinclair has all the power in the world to make her life a living hell, but for some reason, she doesn’t think she ever will. Being with her at Belvoire has been proven a challenge, but it’s more entertaining than anything—Nico wouldn't describe it as _miserable_.

The weirdly playful banter continues as Poppy keeps cleaning her wounds with the wet towel, both of them seem unworried, calm, like this is the most natural thing they could do—and it strikes Nico as odd. Here she is, as vulnerable as ever, with her mortal enemy tending to her wounds and being _gentle_ at it. They are teasing and throwing quips at each other. There is the occasional death glare that Poppy throws her way but it feels shallow now, like it’s just for show, like she doesn't really mean anything by it. There’s the way her fingers linger on her skin, just a moment longer before they move on to touch some other part of her, the way her hands soothe her aching limbs so effortlessly, how she doesn't even seem aware that she is doing so, how Nico doesn’t mind… how she wishes she could feel more of it. More of her.

She is dabbing the towel gently on her cheek, cleaning up the remaining of the dried blood that stained her face. Her eyes furrow in concentration and Nico watches in awe. This is a side of Poppy that fills her with wonder, she feels like she hadn’t truly known her until now. Her hands are so soft, so warm on her face. She has a sudden urge to hold them, so she does. Slowly, she reaches out to cover Poppy’s hands and starts moving them away from her face, her fingers carefully holding them, carefully tracing the length of Poppy’s.

“What are you doing?” Poppy asks in a low voice as soon as Nico’s hands find hers. She sounds taken aback, breathless.

“I’m… I think I see you.”

Poppy blinks and leans back in confusion. “I think you have a concussion.”

But Nico only shakes her head, her hands gently holding Poppy’s. She looks at her for a moment with tender eyes, “... you’re so much more…” Her voice lowers and her heart quickens. It’s like gravity is moving against her as she feels her head lean in, slowly. Her eyes scan Poppy’s face for any sign of acceptance or rejection, but Poppy doesn’t move, doesn't blink, she just looks at Nico like she can’t believe this is happening. She notices the slightest of suspension in her breathing as she keeps leaning in, how her eyes start to soften, her head starts to move closer, and Poppy looks at her through half-lidded eyes, her lips beginning to part as they inch closer and closer…

“Hey babe, I’m home!”

Both of them stop abruptly, Poppy tears herself away from the moment so violently, jerking back as if she had just touched a burning flame.

Silence fills the room for just a moment as Nico turns to look at her roommate standing still by the door. Zoey’s eyes are widened in shock and horror and her lips twist in disgust.

“What the hell?” She closes the door and almost charges towards the pair on the couch, her mood souring completely at the sight of the blonde—but her momentum lowers as she gets closer and gets a good look at Nico’s state. “Holy f—what happened to you?” Zoey’s expression changes from concern to anger once more as she turns to Poppy, “what the hell did you do to her?”

Poppy’s face twists in outrage and she opens her mouth to defend herself but Zoey interrupts her, “seriously Poppy? What the fuck!? It’s one thing to play your little games but _this_?” She points at Nico, who looks somewhat embarrassed, “this is going way too far—even for you. I can’t believe you—”

“Zoey—Zoey!” Nico tries to reach out to her friend in order to calm her down. Although the little display is embarrassing, she can’t help but also find it endearing. Zoey really is a ride or die, she would fight for her name and Nico would do the same for her. She is grateful to have found her. “Zoey!” A small wince finally makes Zoey slow down and look at her. “It wasn’t her.”

Zoey raises an eyebrow, Poppy just crosses her arms and leans back on the couch visibly annoyed. “Poppy didn’t do this to me. Did you really think she would have?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her.”

“Hey!” Poppy interjects, her eyes narrowed and eyebrows pinched, the ghost of a snarl on her lips. “I’m not an animal.”

“Maybe not an animal, but I can think of a few other things.” Zoey crosses her arms and looks at her daringly.

Their little stand-off doesn’t last long though, for Nico speaks again, “Zo, come on,” she can’t help the soft chuckle that escapes her, “Poppy didn’t do this. I got jumped on my way back. Good ol’ New York City streets, right?”

“Oh, Nico.” Her face immediately softens and she sits down on the couch next to Nico. Zoey wraps an arm around her and gently touches her face with the other one. “Oh, your cute face.” Zoey starts caressing her cheek trying to bring any kind of comfort, her face changing into a sad and concerned expression. “Why didn’t you call? I would have come home straight away.”

“They took her phone.” Poppy answers for Nico, she shifts on the couch looking just as uncomfortable as she did when she first got here.

Zoey pauses and frowns at Poppy, “what are you even doing here, by the way?”

“She was helping me.” Nico instinctively reaches for Poppy’s hand as a sign of solidarity and both ignore the way their hearts quicken at the touch.

Zoey narrows her eyes at Poppy, not looking too convinced, so Poppy rolls hers and speaks again, “she needs to be in top shape if she ever wants to be considered competition, otherwise it’ll be too easy to send back to the pig slaughter, and where’s the fun in that?” Her eyes meet Nico’s and her lips curl into a smile for just a moment before Zoey brings them back to reality.

“Uh-huh…” Her tone is wary and she eyes Poppy for a moment longer. Nico knows she is very cautious when it comes to anything that the blonde does or says—and understandably so. Poppy has her reputation for a reason. Then she turns her attention back to Nico, “would you like some tea, babe?” Nico nods and Zoey smiles, “alright, I’ll make you some, then we can… figure this out.” She says as she gestures to Nico’s battered body—which makes her laugh.

Zoey stands from the couch, giving Nico’s arm a soft squeeze before she heads to the kitchen. Her and the blonde are left sitting by themselves again and Nico realizes she never let go of her hand.

Poppy clears her throat and tries to act nonchalant when she pulls her hand away, “well… it seems you’re in capable hands now.” She is trying so hard to sound annoyed and relieved that she can finally leave Nico’s side, but Nico catches a hint of sadness in her tone. The blonde stands up and makes to leave when Nico quickly catches her hand before she can get too far—the action surprises both of them, it felt like a reflex for her, like her body is speaking out something her heart can’t yet process, something her brain can’t yet believe. The blonde looks panicked as her eyes move from their hands to Zoey, hesitant on whether to accept the gesture or run away.

“Don’t worry,” Nico says with an understanding smile. She can only imagine what Poppy’s thinking right now, what she is feeling, and if it’s anything similar to what Nico’s going through then she gets it. She never expected her touch to feel like lightning, spreading its electric charge all through her body. “I’ll be back to tearing you down on Monday.”

Poppy relaxes and her lips form a coy smirk, “oh, you can certainly try.” They both let go and Poppy takes a couple of steps towards the door before something makes her pause. She turns around, a small frown on her features. “I’ll find who did this to you.” Her tone is low and dangerously close to a promise, “I’ll find them, and I’ll make them pay.” Nico can see the darkness that envelops her eyes as she says the words—the same darkness that she is too often seeing directed towards her, seeing it be directed towards someone else feels strange. Anger is clearly creeping into her once again.

“How? It was the middle of the night on a random street, I didn’t even get a good look at their faces.” Is it too naive to think that she could? It’s not like Nico cares about her assailants, not particularly, but the thought that Poppy would do this for her means a lot more to her than she is able to admit. The thought makes her pause, she doesn't want to hope.

The smirk on Poppy’s face grows larger, “I’m a Min-Sinclair. No one damages my toys and gets away with it.”

With that, Poppy turns around and walks away, leaving a starry-eyed Nico behind in reverence with her thoughts.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed it and thank you so much for reading!


End file.
